


how to be Strong

by hatebeat



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Backstory, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7971460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatebeat/pseuds/hatebeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hisoka learns that he must be stronger than his mother to survive the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how to be Strong

The sun was beating down on her already sunburnt face, but she was more concerned with keeping Hisoka in the shade of the small table she had set up on the sidewalk. There was a wide expanse of concrete in front of the entrance to this casinos, which spilled into a shopping mall and some grab-and-eat restaurants. Dorenia had brought Hisoka and her table at nearly dawn in order to get set up in such a lucrative spot. Her son must have been hungry and tired already from hours of sitting outside, but if so, he didn't complain. She'd given him a deck of cards to build a house with while she performed her routine, even though he rarely made it to the second story.

Hardly anybody gave Dorenia a second glance as they passed her by, but there were some who paused out of boredom or curiosity. She finished the trick she was in the midst of when a gentleman approached the table smoking, looking as if he hadn't yet been to sleep from the night before. In this city, that was as likely as not. 

"Sir, may I borrow a cigarette?" 

The man was taken aback, and looked at Dorenia with disgust. "Don't think you should be smoking in front of the kid."

It made her angry, the snap judgments people made, but she never let it show on her face. She'd been a performer since she was a child, after all. Dorenia knew how to keep up appearances.

She would never endanger Hisoka, even if she _did_ make enough money to keep up a smoking habit.

"Not to smoke, sir. Just for a trick, if you would be so kind!"

Somewhat grudgingly, the man opened a pack and held it out for her to take one. 

"I'm going to make this cigarette disappear," she told her tiny audience grasping it between her thumb and forefinger.

"I could make it disappear all by myself," the man who had donated it chuckled, but she pretended not to hear. Dorenia waved her fingers, concealing her sleight of hand as the cigarette vanished from view. It gained rather meager applause, but the donor didn't look impressed.

"Ah, would you like it back?" she asked as he began to be on his way. "Here you are." Another wave of her hands, and the cigarette returned as if it had never gone.

It hadn't really, of course, but it was easy to make people believe that it had. 

 

It was late in the afternoon when there was enough money in her tin that she thought she could get her son something to eat. It had been worth it to get that spot so early, even if her hungry son might not realise it. 

She had a feeling, though, that most of the tips were dropped into the tin because of Hisoka's cute face, not for her performance. 

\---

"How does it disappear?" 

"Well, the easiest way is to flick it," Dorenia told her son, setting the card on the table. She waved her hands around and expertly flicked it into her lap, concealed by her dominant arm. 

"No good. You can still see," he pointed out. Eh? He could? 

"Are you sure?" She set the card back up and did it again, watching her son's eyes closely. As she flicked the card back, she saw the quick motion of his pupils following it.

Dorenia reached across the table and patted Hisoka's head. "You've got good eyes, Hisoka. But most people don't. They're easy to fool. Knowing how to fool them might save your life someday," she warned. It had saved hers more than once. "Best to learn now."

She never really could tell what her son understood or not. He was always a quiet child, and fiercely independent. Hisoka was, to her, more intelligent than any other children she'd seen his age. 

She wished she could do better for him.

"Practice your spoon bending, okay? You'll be able to help me with it soon." She nudged the spoons toward him, then spread out the newspaper that she'd stolen from the front of a shop on their way home. 

While Hisoka had been so small, finding a job had been impossible. With most of her family back in Kukanyu, or wherever else they had ended up, there was nobody to help watch him, and she couldn't afford to pay anyone to care for him while she was working.

Her son was growing, though, and growing smarter and smarter each day. She could probably get away with working, now. She had to!

After the better part of an hour, she'd scoured every inch of the classifieds, copying down the information of any opportunity she might be able to take. Hisoka had long abandoned his practice, and had started building a card house quietly across from her at the table. 

"Let's get you into the bath," she decided, getting up and stretching out tired muscles. 

"Is the water still cold?" 

Dorenia pursed her lips, trying to ignore the guilt. She could barely meet their basic needs here. No, it wasn't her fault that her country had deported her, that she had ended up across the sea in the middle of the desert. But she needed to do better for the only family she had left.

"Yes. But it will feel good in this heat, hm? Come on. Up with you."

Dorenia surreptitiously stepped on a cockroach as she ushered her son into the bathroom. She would start doing better soon.

\---

Mother was getting dressed up. The clothes she put on were strange, the likes of which Hisoka had never seen her wearing. He'd seen other people wearing similar near the casinos that they usually performed in front of, but his mother never dressed that way.

She was going to work, she said. Different work than they usually did.

Mother spent a lot of time cleaning her face and putting makeup on. Hisoka thought it was interesting, so he watched her carefully. 

"Can I have some?"

Mother laughed. "If you want. Hold still." She took the black stick that she was painting her eyelashes with and painted his as well. "Be careful not to rub your eyes, though! It will smear all over the place."

Hisoka wouldn't rub them. He looked at himself in the mirror and blinked several times.

She painted her lips a darker pink. 

"Can I have some?" Hisoka asked again.

"Alright. Just a little." 

She took the bag they usually took when they went out to perform, with cards, spoons, coins, and scarves, even though Mother said she was going to be doing a different job today. She filled a bottle with water from the sink and packed that, too. 

They had to ride the bus for a little while, standing. It was the weekend, so it was crowded. There were many drunk people. Hisoka stood close to Mother, but faced away from her, unafraid to look at all the different sorts of people.

After the bus, they had to walk for a block. They stopped out front of one of the casinos. It was called The Manhattan. Hisoka recognised it; they had performed around here before. 

"I'm going to be just inside here, alright?" she told him as she helped him to set up. "Just do what we usually do. You can do it," Mother assured him.

"I can," Hisoka agreed.

"If you need me, come inside. I'll be serving drinks."

Hisoka nodded.

"I'll come check on you every hour. I'll bring you something to eat later on."

Hisoka nodded. 

"You'll be okay," she assured him. "We can both do this. It's only three days a week, alright?"

Hisoka nodded, and Mother patted him on the head, slightly ruffling his hair before she headed inside. 

Hisoka did the tricks like Mother usually did, but he found that he wasn't as outgoing as Mother. She was a better performer, he thought. Louder, more impressive. But some people stopped to watch him, and some even put money in his tin. The casino had no front door, just opened up onto the sidewalk, so every so often he would get a glimpse of Mother inside carrying a tray. 

The first time she came to check on him, she chided him for not drinking enough water, and the second time, she took his bottle inside to fill it up for him. The third time, she brought him a sandwich, hot with melted cheese on meat. Hisoka savored it. 

By the time Mother came out for good, she looked very tired. She sat down next to him while he packed everything back up into his bag. 

"Look how much I made," he said, holding the tin out to show her. She didn't look for a moment, just hugged him close to her, holding onto him tightly until it became uncomfortable. Hisoka didn't pull away, though.

"I'm so proud!" she said, finally glancing into the tin. "How about we go get you a treat? You can pick out something you want."

Hisoka had never heard those words before, but it sounded nice. They went to a convenience store that was a few doors down from The Manhattan, and Mother urged him over toward the candy section. Candy was something he'd almost never had, but he'd liked it on those few occasions. 

He'd never been able to pick it out himself before. Hisoka wasn't sure what he would like, but he chose a chocolate bar, some kind of fruity, chewy candy, and a pack of chewing gum. 

Hisoka chewed the gum on the bus ride home, and refused to spit it out even when Mother put him to bed.

\---

Hisoka's street magic steadily improved as he was left on his own. He even began creating his own tricks, ones a step further than Mother had shown him. His hands were fast, and although the tricks seemed obvious to him, the average person couldn't follow his sleight of hand. Many of them were drunken idiots, and so it was almost too simple for an eight year old boy to fool them. 

He was sure that Mother hated her job, but she rarely complained. She had told him that it was just another method of performance, though, and that that made it easier. 

Everything was a performance in their city, with the lights and the sounds and people coming from far away to watch. But Mother had told him that she'd been a performer even before she had come to this city. She was an expert.

Mother was looking particularly worn when she came outside at the end of her shift.

"Finished?" Hisoka asked, looking her over. 

"Yeah. You ready to go?"

Hisoka stared at her for a moment, as if deciding. Her makeup was smudged a little bit, and she looked angry. Upset? Hisoka wasn't sure what to make of her face.

"Don't worry," she assured him, always seeming to sense his thoughts. "Some of the gamblers were just being assholes tonight. Stupid drunks. Let's get packed up, okay?"

Hisoka nodded and started to pack his props into the bag, stuffing the tip money from his tin into his pockets. Maybe they could buy a treat today.

A group of loud voices spilled out of the front of the casino, which wasn't unusual. It happened often, but these ones were approaching them quickly. 

"Let's get to the bus stop," Mother urged him, and Hisoka forgot all about getting a treat.

The group of men followed them, several yards behind. Hisoka dared a glance at them. Three of them. He could see a bus further down the block, so they should be able to make it to the stop by time bus did. 

The men sat down on the bench near the stop, while Hisoka and Mother stood near the curb. Hisoka stared at the bus, hanging onto Mother's hand. 

To his right, cars pulled out of a parking garage and into the crowded streets. One stopped, and a door swung open.

It was very fast, almost too fast for Hisoka's eyes to catch. The men behind them had made their move, shoving both Hisoka and Mother into the back seat. Mother was yelling, Hisoka saw her struggling to kick at them, but they had her pinned. One of them put something over Hisoka's head so that he couldn't see. Mother started screaming, and Hisoka felt the car zooming out into traffic, weaving violently between lanes. 

Hisoka's heart pounded, but he didn't make any sound. He was being restrained, and as much as he struggled, he couldn't move. 

Adrenaline blinded him nearly as much as the bag over his head. Mother's screams became muffled. Hisoka wasn't sure how long they were in a car, but at some point, the car screeched to a stop, engine shut off, and they were being moved forcibly inside a building. A door slammed. The night air had been stifling, but it was suddenly nearly frigid inside.

Hisoka tried to listen carefully to the voices he heard. Slurring, drunk men. Hisoka's breathing and heartbeat seemed to be louder than any of it.

They were yelling at Mother, he realised after a couple minutes. He heard someone strike her, and she cried out.

"If you don't do what we say, we'll kill the kid," he heard clearly. It was the man holding onto him-- his voice was so close that Hisoka's world snapped back into focus. He could hear Mother crying still, but someone was covering her mouth. 

"What was that, cunt?" a man jeered. 

"I'll do it," she spat out, her voice finally coming out clearly. "Leave him the fuck alone!"

There were scuffling sounds. Hisoka didn't know what was happening. He heard the sound of something zipping, the sound of a mattress creaking. 

"Hey, let the kid watch," one of the men laughed. The one holding him down started to laugh, too, and suddenly Hisoka could see again. 

"Hear that, you little fucker? You wanna see what a whore Mama is?" The man grabbed Hisoka's head, pulling his eyelids up so that he couldn't blink.

His eyes started to water before he was able to see what was happening past his fear. It appeared to be a motel room. Mother was on the bed without most of her clothes. She hadn't had a lot on because of her job, but now she had even less. The men were mostly naked, too. One was lying down, holding Mother's arms down as she lay atop him, while another was making his penis prod at her face. Mother's hair was everywhere and her makeup was running all over her cheeks.

Hisoka felt like he was seeing everything in slow motion, like photographs flashing disjointedly past his vision. 

A man was putting his penis into Mother between her legs. It looked like it hurt her. Hisoka didn't know what was happening, but Mother was crying, and Hisoka realised that he was crying, too. The man kept moving, and Mother made strange sounds between putting the other two men's penises in her mouth. 

"Give me a turn already!" the man holding Hisoka finally said. 

"Alright, alright, shut up," said another, who came to hold him down. He gave Hisoka a sharp jab in the head.

"Don't hurt him," Mother yelled, but the men were laughing. Hisoka didn't feel the pain. He only felt fear.

All of what they were doing on the bed was very loud. The longer it went on, Hisoka half hoped that someone outside might hear and come help them. 

He was disgusted by his own weakness. He didn't have the strength to do anything. He couldn't help Mother. He couldn't help himself. 

And part of him found that he was disgusted that Mother was so weak as well.

Nobody came to help. 

It may have been hours, or not, but eventually after each of the men had put their penises in Mother many times, the commotion started to slow down. Was it over? Could it possibly be over? Hisoka couldn't feel anything anymore besides fear. He couldn't even tell if what he was seeing was real or fake anymore.

"She did what you wanted, now let us go," Hisoka suddenly said, surprised by the sound of his own voice. 

"Oh, you think you're tough, little boy?" one the men said, pulling jeans back on. "Maybe we'll take you next." 

"You promised you wouldn't hurt him," Mother rasped out. She was hardly being held down anymore, but she didn't seem like she could move. 

"Shut the fuck up, whore," the same man said, and he pulled something out of his jeans pocket. Hisoka hardly registered anything besides the sound of gunshots at first. 

There was sudden pandemonium. The man holding Hisoka shot up, forgetting to keep a grip on him.

"What the fuck, man!" one of the other men yelled, and there was an uproar in the room.

"How the hell we going to cover that up?"

"It's Gas Land! No one'll miss another whore."

"There's blood all over the fucking bed, asshole! And what about the body?"

Hisoka made it out the door while they yelled. He didn't look back for a second. He ran and ran. He got on a bus with the tips from his pocket, he made it home to their apartment.

He didn't have the key.

Hisoka collapsed outside the front door. Not understanding, not feeling. He had always thought Mother was so strong. He had wanted to be strong like her.

Maybe Mother wasn't strong, after all. But Hisoka would be. He would have to be.  
===


End file.
